


One Night in an Igloo

by mrgoldsdearie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Creampie Eating, Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Fingering, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Inspired by @askoswaldandedward  - Edward leaves behind a trail of origami penguins so Oswald can find him and the indoor igloo he has build.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my big fat love letter to @my-chemical-romanoff and their blog @askoswaldandedward (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。
> 
> I am addicted to the blog you have created and I needed to thank you in some way. It has put a smile on my face on some of the toughest days have had. I can scroll through your blog and my mood can instantly change for the better. No other ask blog on this site has ever affected me the way yours has. So I needed to let you know how much it means to me. THANK YOU SO MUCH for creating something that brings happiness to a lot of us in the fandom. I'm not the best writer but I hope this story can do the same for you as you have done for us. Happy reading!

With several more sharp creases on the cherry blossom patterned paper and a few tucked corners, Edward Nygma completes his project. He counts to himself as he lines up his batch of Japanese paper art, making sure he has enough to paint a smile on his husband's face.

“Fourteen”, he said under his breath. “Fourteen is just enough.”

He gathers his small army of the multi-colored paper penguin's from the office desk and sets out to surprise his love.

##  *********

Oswald sits on the couch in one of the smaller living areas of the mansion, flipping through the pages of the Gotham newspaper.

“Ugh,” he huffs, reading the recent political poll.

The mayor of Gotham doesn't seem to be as popular as he was a few months ago. There has to be a way to fix this.

His hands grip tightly at the pages as he reads the commit section. Not a pretty sight to observe.

> _Mayor Cobblepot? More like Mayor Crackpot. I don't know how we allowed this gangster to head our city._
> 
> _Yeah, I voted for the guy, but I regret it now. He's done nothing to help me._
> 
> _I bet he’s stealing our tax dollars!_

Oswald's freckled cheeks scorch and his twitching cyan eyes see blood red. This isn't how the people are supposed to view his mayorship. He's done nothing but lay his ass on the line for them. Well, they'll see…. _All of them_ …. They'll fucking see and they'll fucking know what a crackpot mayor can do!

_*meow…. sniff, sniff*_

“No,” Oswald says plainly from behind his newspaper.

_*sniff…. meow…. sniff, sniff*_

Oswald can feel the warm, plush, fur of one their cats around his ankles. “No, Adelie. Go find daddy. I'm busy,” he says ruffling the paper and crossing his right leg over the left.

The cat insists on her cry. She needs Oswald's attention now.

“I love you, my sweet little muffin, but I can't play right now.” He uncrosses his legs and lowers the newspaper. “These people are trying to….” He takes pause, setting his eyes on the beloved black cat in a purple leather collar. The sight of the furry creature isn't what caused the Mayor's delay, but what's found in her mouth. “Have you been trying to give me this?”

The cat jumps up on the couch and lays her present on Oswald's lap.

He picks up the item and a smile stretches on his face, all of the anger melting away. “Did daddy give you this?”, he asks the cat, fully well aware that she won't spill her secrets.

She jumps up on his left shoulder, struts across the back of his neck to his right shoulder and hops off over the back of the couch, leaving Oswald alone in the room.

After watching his fur-child walk out of his presents, Oswald turns his attention back to the gift she left behind. The item is small and made of blue and white snowflake patterned paper, folded into the shape of a penguin. He’s heart stops as his mind is clouded with the memory of the first time Edward had given him an origami penguin. He can see that day like a vivid picture, never forgetting their early moments together.

Oswald brings the paper flightless bird to his lips and kisses it. He doesn't know how Edward got Adelie to bring him the origami art, but it was the sweetest and most unexpected thing his husband has done all week.

“Ed?...”, Oswald calls, standing to his feet and searches the mansion for his lover. “Husband?...” He receives no reply and pops his head into each room he passes, finding them all empty. “Where are you, sweetheart?” He staggers up to their bedroom door, hoping to find Edward. 

He knows that it's a far-fetched scenario to find Edward sprawled on a rose petal covered bed, naked, and waiting for Oswald to have his way with him, but that doesn't stop Oswald from wanting it and thinking about it.

He opens the door to their bedroom and unsurprisingly finds that it's empty. _Where the hell could Edward be?_ Oswald knows he’s in the house somewhere and decides to treat his little hunt like a game of hide and seek, knowing how much his husband is fond of games. He staggers to the closet and opens the door to peek inside, finding no sign of Edward behind the rakes of perfectly pressed suits.

As Oswald closes the door and turns to search his next destination, under the bed, something on top of the mattress catches the Penguin's attention.

He waddled over to their perfectly made Egyptian silk bedding and takes hold of another origami penguin; this one constructed out of purple paper. Oswald's eyes begin to mist, as he gazes at both of the handcrafted gifts, sensing the love Edward has for him beaming from the folded art in his hands. Coming across this second penguin only makes Oswald's need to find his husband exponentially greater.

“Edddwarrrd?”, Oswald long-sung his name, wiping the tear that has fallen to his cheek as he treads on to continue his search.

Stepping out of the bedroom, Oswald's large heavily studded black and white leather shoes unexpectedly crush something underneath his weight. He quickly peers down with alarm etched on his face. “Oh no!”, Oswald gasps, bending down to retrieve the smashed paper penguin and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach once he gets a better view of the damage. “You weren't here before, little girl,” his voice slightly cracks with pain, bottom lip faintly wobbling. He's never felt so broken over crumpled up green and blue paper. Maybe Edward can fix her if Oswald can find him. The paper artist has to be nearby to have placed this one just outside the door.

Oswald slips his broken paper companion in the breast pocket of his suit and limps down the hall.

##  *********

Around the corner, Oswald sets his eyes on a row of origami penguins. All lined up like an army troop leading the way into Edward's old bedroom. Oswald's face illuminates brighter than the sun, thrilled to have finally found his spouse.

He picks up the little paper penguins— each one crafted from a different patterned paper— as he inches closer to the closed door. Oswald holds his little friends protectively in his arms and knocks on the solid oak wood.

_*knock-knock-knock*_

“Come in, husband, it's unlocked!”, Edward answers from the other side.

Oswald lays his hand on the gold doorknob and turns to enter Edward's former room.

“Hello, little bird!” Edward's dark brown eyes sparkle with love once he sets sight on his groom. He sits on the floor on top of a mountain of pillows with a large canopy of silk sheets hanging above and around him. It's a playful sight, one Oswald never guessed to behold.

“Did you make a pillow fort?” Oswald's eyes widen taking in all the skill it took Edward to build such a glorious inside shelter. There are ropes strategically hanging from the ceiling to give the tent height, while chairs widen and support the structure of the tent. Oswald can't wait to hop in and snuggle up next to hubby on all of those pillows. Edward must have used every pillow in the house.

“No, Oswald, it's not a pillow fort—” Edward’s lips crack a smile, slowly shaking his head from left to right— “it's an igloo for you and all of your arctic friends.”

“An igloo?”, Oswald echoes.

“Yes, my love, an igloo.”

Oswald's smile stretches to its limit, his husband is unbelievably imaginative. He kicks off his heavy shoes, shuffles up to the igloo and carefully drops the paper penguins in his lover's lap.

“It's raining penguins!” Ed laughs, receiving an even more bubbly giggle from his little dark haired bird.

“Oh, Ed….”, Oswald sighs blissfully, taking off his jacket, vest, tie, and pants to get just as comfortable and casual as Edward.

“I would have brought a radio had I known you'd be stripping.”

“Well I'm not going all the way—” Oswald's cheeks bloom, dropping his clothing on the floor— “not yet at least.”

“Something to look forward to.” Edward arches a brow.

“Mmhmm,” Oswald nods, suppressing his laughter from the animated expression on Ed's face. He can tell his husband's a little feisty today and he fucking loves it! Edward has a way of making Oswald feel better, even when he doesn't know he needs cheering up.

Oswald turns away for a moment to dig in the pocket of his jacket and collects the smashed penguin. “Does this igloo have a penguin hospital?”, he asks, facing back to his breathtaking partner, standing in only his button down white shirt and green polka dot cotton skivvies, which Edward notices are his own.

“Yes—” Edward nods, keeping his trap shut about his husband’s underwear drawer thievery— “why do you ask?”

“Lola got hurt on our tromp through the snow,” he speaks with a small voice and a frown, revealing the injured paper bird.

“Lola….”, Edward says and takes in a sharp breath with shock painted on his features. “Oh, dear!... Bring her here immediately.” Edward offers Oswald his hand to help him come down to the floor more safety. He knows Oswald staggered around the house looking for him and he doesn't want to cause more pain to Oswald's leg.

“Thank you, husband,” Oswald says, carefully taking his seat in the tent, sitting next to Mr. Nygma as close as two could be. He leans in and presses his lips to Edward's, stealing away a taste of him.

Edward's body tightens from the sudden connection, but he instantly relaxes and melds into his lover's embrace. “Mmm….”, he hums on Oswald's soft watermelon lip balm flavored lips. “Oh, my….”, he breathes, nipping greedily at Oswald's bottom lip. “I've wanted to get you in this igloo—” nips again, and again, eyes closed tightly as his body feels as though it's floating in the highest clouds— “all day.”

“Now that you have me here—” Oswald rakes his hand through Edward’s brunette curls— “what are you going to do?”

“I'm gonna fix our little paper friend.”

“Good.” He kissed Edward on the nose and straightens the glasses on his husband's face. “That's what I hoped you'd say.”

Edward closes the tent and turns on the little battery powered lantern he had sitting next to an old black leather bag. Making this structure of bed sheets, rope, and chairs, his and Oswald's entire world. The inside of their imaginary igloo is the only life they know at the moment.

“What's in the bag, Eddie?”

“You'll see soon enough, Ossie,” he replies with a wink. “We have to take care of Lola first.”

“Okay, _Dr. Nygma_.”

“You just sit back and observe, _Nurse Cobblepot_.” He kisses Oswald on the cheek.

Oswald giggles softly, laying his head on Ed’s shoulder. “What do you have to do first?”

“I need to do an examination of Lola’s injuries,” Edward says, holding the origami penguin in his palm, taking a close look at the damage. “She appears to have a fractured wing and a few bruised ribs.”

“Can you help her?”

“Of course I can.” Edward unfolds the paper and uses it to reconstruct another penguin. With a few folds, following the same creases he made before, the origami penguin is as good as new. “She isn't as perfect as she once was.” He hands the crafted paper back to Oswald.

“I don't care. I still love her.” Oswald kisses the wrinkled penguin on the head.

“I'm sure she still love you too.” Edward presses his lips to Oswald's brow as well.

Oswald sits up from his husband's shoulder. He's breath nearly taken away by the reflection of the light dancing in Edward's deep brown eyes. Stunning. “Thank you for fixing her, Ed,” he says sincerely, once getting over the beauty he was bestowed.

“You're welcome.”

Oswald looks down at his restored paper penguin, amazed by how much he loves it now than before it was crushed. Something about its imperfections draws it closer to his heart. “Ed, I think she needs to be with the others, so she can recover from her injuries.”

“That's a good idea.” Edward gently retakes the penguin and sits it off to the side with the others. "I can make her some paper flowers later."

"Oh, she'd love that," Oswald announces, gleefully. “You're such a good penguin doctor.”

“And you're a good nurse.” He lightly bops his finger on the tip of Oswald's pointed nose.

“But I didn't do anything.”

“You made sure that my shoulder wasn't empty," he snickers at his own reply.

“That's true,” Oswald says, wrapping himself around Edward's arm and rests his head back upon his beloved's shoulder.

They sit quietly for a moment, basking in the comfortable silence between them, warm and cozy underneath the cover of their pillow fort.

Edward takes Oswald's hand in his own, twisting his husband's wedding band around the finger. “You have such pretty hands, Oswald.”

“They're just hands,” Oswald says plainly, shrugging his shoulder.

“But they're your hands and they're beautiful.” Edward kisses Oswald on the back of his hand, then scoots the bag that was resting by the lantern in front of them. “But they're missing something," he adds, unzipping the bag and dips his hand inside.

“What could they possibly be missing?”

“A bit of color,” Edward answers, removing five different bottles of glitter nail polish.

Oswald's face lights up once again at another unexpected surprise. Edward has brought some of his favorite shades.

“Which color would you like?”

“Can I have all of them?”

“Yes, you can.” Edward picks up the purple polish fist and shakes the bottle to rattle the little ball inside that stirs up the nail paint. He twists opens the top, scrapes off the extra polish from the brush and paints the index finger of his husband's right hand. “Tell me about your day.”

Oswald talks his love's ears off, filling them with the events of his day at city hall and of some of the work that needed to be handled as being the head of Gotham’s underground. Oswald didn't have to spill any blood today, but he feels that he would have to soon if one of the lower crime families doesn't pay up what they owe. He also shares what he read in the newspaper about the current state of his popularity as the mayor.

Edward gives him suggestions on what he could do to regain love from the people of the city. The Riddle-man had always had a way with helping Oswald with the citizens of Gotham.

“I don't know what I'd do without you, Ed,” Oswald says, admiring his shimmering rainbow painted nails.

“You'd still be an incredible man.”

“I'm only that because of you.”

“That's not true.”

Oswald's heart flutters and his temperature rises from the warm blood surging through his body. They could go back and forth like this all night and Edward would never change his opinion of him. Edward believes in Oswald more than anyone else alive would ever do. Every time Oswald feels the love this husband has for him, it almost seems surreal. Like he doesn't deserve such an incredible person in his life.

After making sure his nails are completely dry, Oswald suddenly pounces on Edward, pushing him back into the pillows on the floor, no longer able to hold in the intense yearning to kiss the handsome brown eyed man.

Edward consumes his lover's lips, pushing his tongue passed the row of teeth, deepening the flavor before breaking their connection. “I have—” he breathes between words, Oswald's passionate attack nearly knocked the wind air out of him— “lipstick in the bag.”

“Would you like me to get it?”

“Yes…. And you could put it on me. I want to see how many times I can kiss you before it wears off.”

“That sounds like fun.” Oswald perches on top of Edward and picks up the bag, resting it on Edward's chest. He digs inside, shuffles past the lilac vibrating dildo, lube, and an old Polaroid instant camera. Oh!, a camera. “Eddie, what's this for?”, he asks, pulling the camera out of the bag by its strap.

Edward squints. “Is that rhetorical question?”

“Yes,” Oswald quickly responds, opening the flash of the camera and snaps a shot of his hand covering Edward's face. The self-developing print instantly slips out from the slit on the compartment where the film is housed. Oswald removes the picture and fans it in the air so the chemically developed print can dry to reveal the image. “You did such an amazing job on my nails.” He grins down at his husband, who's blinking from the sudden flash of light.

“I'm happy you like them—” Edward's hands slide up Oswald's bare legs, squeezing firmly at his thighs before gripping at his waist— “and the camera, but you were supposed to be getting the lipstick.”

“I didn't know you'd be in such a rush to wear lipstick," Oswald huffs, crossing his arms.

“I'm not in a rush to wear it." He uncrosses Oswald arms and laces their fingers together. Oswald was absolutely right, he did do an exceptional job on his nails. "I'm in a hurry to start kissing you again," he continues to say.

“Well, why didn't you say so?”, Oswald chuckles and peeks at the picture. It turned out just the way he wanted it to.

The Penguin shows the photo to Edward and he cackles at the image of his face being covered by his husband’s sparkling rainbow hand. The Riddle-man can't help but think that Oswald would have taken a million snappies of his hand had he not stopped him. Good thing he did or the 24 shot limit of the polaroid film would have done it for him.

Oswald rests the camera and the photo on the pillow over Edward's head, then finally finds the rose colored lipstick in the bag. He smirks sliding the bag off of Ed’s chest and removes the top from the lipstick. He twists the makeup from the tube and tilts into his husband, slowly painting his bottom lip. “I love this color on you.” He traces the brim of Edward's top lip.

“Good…. Because that was the only shade I could find.” Edward rubs his lips together, spreading the color evenly. “You have so much makeup, Oswald. I don't see how you can find anything in that unorganized horde of yours.”

“Don't you worry about that.” He puts the top back on the lipstick and sits up, taking hold of the camera again. “I know where everything is and that's all that matters.” Oswald snaps a photo of Edward wearing the lipstick. “God, you're handsome,” he grunts, fanning the picture dry. “How did I get so lucky?”

Without warning, Edward catches onto Oswald's shoulders and changes their positions on the mound of pillows, causing Oswald to drop the photograph. It lands just beyond their reach. “You fought for me.” He kisses the edge of his groom’s mouth, leaving behind a perfect red print of his lips. “We fought for each other.” He places another soft kiss on the other corner of Oswald's lips, then one on his cheek, then his nose, then his brow. Leaving behind crimson marks with each one.

“Oh, Ed….”, Oswald moan softly, coiling his legs around Edward's waist.

Edward blows raspberries down Oswald's neck, lipstick slowly fading with every connection to his lover's flesh. He unbuttons the pearly white buttons on Oswald's shirt, revealing his hairless chest and freckled shoulders, leaving no spot of exposed skin untouched by his painted lips.

“Ah!” Oswald buries his free hand in Edward's hair, scratching his rainbow nails at his sweetheart’s scalp, and takes a picture of the top of his husband's head, while Edward travels further down Oswald's body. He tosses away the photo just as Edward peeks up at him and he manages to take another. The smeared lipstick on Edward's face was far too arousing not to capture the moment forever. “Ah!”, the Penguin cries again, arching his back when Edward takes his pebbled nipple between his teeth. “Yes, babe.” He rolls his hips, feeling Edward's hardening bulge brush against the thin fabric of his moistening green polka dot underwear, desperately needing more attention to his center. “Yes.”

Edward takes the nub in his soft lips and rolls it between them, then licks and flicks his tongue over the sensitive area, delighting in every slight tremor of Oswald's body. “You're such a boy, Oswald.” He treats his husband's other nipple with the same attention. “Allowing me to devour your body.”

“You can do -- do anything you want to me.”

“I know I can—” Edward covers Oswald's chest with kissed, then his stomach before tracing his tongue around his lover's navel— “and I'm going to paint your leaking cock with my red lips,” he hums upon Oswald's skin, then drags his wet muscle down the happy trail of the man under him. Edward's ass and legs peek out through the sheet he's made as the door to their _igloo,_ at this point. If he moved down any further, he'd be out in the “snow”.

Edward wraps his hand around the lipstick resting at Oswald's side and cranes his neck up to gaze at Oswald as he applies another coat on his smudged lips.

“You needed to freshen up?”, Oswald asks, sitting up on his left elbow and captures another photo of his man with the Polaroid camera, then tosses the picture to join their slowly growing pile on their bed of pillows.

“You know I like looking my best for you.” Edward fondles his large right hand over Oswald's package.

“Ah—” Oswald rolls his eyes, as he falls back into the pillows— “you're always so pretty,” he says breathless, bucking his hips involuntarily.

“Thank you, Oswald,” Edward whispers. He dips his fingers under the elastic of his husband's borrowed underwear, slipping them down to his thighs and Oswald's dripping rigid cock springs out from their cotton bondage. “Oh, my!”, Edward's voice sounds surprised by the sight he's been graced. “Just what I wanted to see.” He kisses Oswald's trembling swelled sack, leaving his red mark behind. “That cute little pink head—” he quickly licks the nectar leaking from the blushing tip— “peeking out from the folds of your tight skin…. Yum.”

Oswald's flesh flashes brighter as he can't keep the laughter from escaping his lips. “I don't -- I don't even know how to respond to that, Ed.” His free hand grips and claws at the pillows at his side, anticipating his rod hitting the back of his husband's throat.

“You don't have to—” Edward envelopes his long fingers around the base of Oswald's engorged shaft, gently caressing the oozing tip around his lips as if he was applying more lipstick — “but you do have to respond to this.” He fills his hot, damp, mouth with his husband's throbbing cock.

“Oh, f-f-fuck!”, Oswald stammers.

Edward's head bobs up and down Oswald's shaft, coating it in lipstick and saliva. “Mmm….”, he hums, pulling the foreskin over the head and rolls it between his lips.

“Oh, fuck…”. Any other intelligent reply is all but lost from Mr. Cobblepot’s tongue. His mind is swimming in sex. “Fuck!” He sits back up on his elbow and takes a few photos of his cock being devoured, and painted red just like his husband promised. His finger hits the button in a frantic manner as he feels himself losing control. The sporadic pictures fly out from the camera and hit Oswald's stomach before sliding off. “Ah!... Ah!...” He drops the camera, unable to capture any more precious moments. Oswald plops back onto the pillows and his hands fly to Edward's hair, tugging at his curls.

Edward slurps his lips up the side of Oswald's manhood, drinking every drop that slides down the length. He won't allow any of that honey to get wasted. He circles his tongue between the folds of his lover's foreskin before pulling it back and swallowing him whole. Ed bobbles his head again, deepening the reach of Oswald's cock down his throat, warm saliva pooling on the balls. He slowly pulls Oswald's length from his lips, releasing his hold with a hard pop before spitting on the tip. He knows how much Oswald loves his dick slick. Edward then takes Oswald's shaft and jacks it vigorously, filling their pillow fort with more of his birdie’s sweet songs.

“Oh…. Ah…. Ugh…. Fuck!”

It was mostly curses and incoherent grunting, but each tone sounded like a symphony to Edward Nygma-Cobblepot’s ears.

Oswald feels himself about to explode. Edward knows his body more than the mayor of Gotham knows his city. This pleasure has to stop. As much as he hates for it to end while he's so close to staining his lover's hand, Oswald needs to be inside Edward, needing to feel his warm walls constricting around his relentless cock. Oswald isn't quite sure about the light purple dildo he saw in the bag earlier. Still being new to the act of sex, that kind of toy is really Edward's thing, but the bottle of lube won't be going to waste. “St-stop,” he heavily breathes as his thighs quiver from the orgasm he's urgently keeping at bay. “Please, baby…. Ah, oh gods—” he's head digs deeper into the pillows under him— “please stop,” Oswald begs.

Edward instantly complies with the command. As much as he wanted to keep going until Oswald’s release was splattered on his glasses, Edward always stops when his lover asks him too. He crawls up, bringing the bottom half of his tall, slender, body back into their imaginary igloo, and straddles on top of his panting true love. “I know why you stopped me….” He runs his sticky hands over Oswald's chest, squeezing at his pectoral muscles. “I know what you want—” pulls his white gamer t-shirt over his head and tilts into Oswald, hovering over his sweaty, overheated, partner— “because I prepared for you to fuck me after I finished building this igloo for us,” he says thickly and licks the Penguin’s pointed nose. “My ass is all yours tonight.”

“Your ass is always mine,” Oswald treats Ed to a snarl of his own.

“That's true.” He kisses Oswald intensely, spreading what's left of the lipstick with him and sharing the taste of sex from his lips.

Oswald cups the nape of Edward's neck then his hands slide down his spine, shimmering rainbow nails leaving long thin red scratches behind. “Get on your stomach,” he grunts between their kiss.

“So forceful.” He nibbles on Oswald's pouty bottom lip. “Are you sure you're ready for me, Mr. Penguin?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” Edward shoves the camera and pictures out of the way, then climbs off of Oswald. He takes off his pajama bottoms and underwear before laying flat on his stomach, with his legs like a figure four, next to his husband.

Oswald sits up, rips off the button down shirt and the underwear he borrowed without Edward's permission. He reaches over his waiting lover and grabs the bottle of lube from the bag, then lays back down facing Edward.

They gaze at each other. The light from the lantern glistening in both of their eyes, feeling the powerful physical connection they've only felt for each other.  

“Do you know how much I love you?”, Oswald asks, breaking the silence between them as he strokes the back of Edward's head.

“I do know how much, Oswald, and I take delight in every time I hear you say that you love me.”

“That's what I always want for you, to be happy.” He draws Edward into him for a tender kiss. “I wish I could take away the horrible things that have happened to you,” he says softly upon his lips. “The things that I've done to hurt you.”

“Oswald, you know I've forgiven you.”

“I know that—” he fills his palm with some of the lubrication, then ghosts the back of his hand down Ed’s spin and finds his ways to his husband's plump round end— “but that doesn't stop me from spending the rest of my life making it up to you.” He slowly spreads the cold substance over the brim of Edward's tight little hole.

“Ah….” Edward breathes, spreading his legs wider. “You don't -- you don't have to make it up to me.” He cups Oswald’s cheek and rests their brow upon each other's. “You don't have to do that.”

“I know—” Oswald slowly glides his sleek middle finger inside of his husband— “but I want to,” he whispers, twisting his hand.

“Uh….”, he moans softly from the pleasurable pressure. “Oh, little bird—” Edward's body quivers to his lover's touch, tightening his muscle around the penetrating finger— “you could be such a fool sometimes.”

Edward has told Oswald many times that he owns him nothing else but a life together. Oswald can't help but think it's not enough, he doesn't think anything will be enough for the things he’s done that has broken Edward's, heart.

“But you love this fool,” Oswald breathes, humid breath fogging Edward's glasses. He removes his finger from the Chief of Staff and re-enters him with two, gently preparing him to take more.  

Edward's hand drops from Oswald's face and he grips at their bed of pillows. “I do…. Ah…. I love everything about you. Even -- even your flaws.” He starts to roll his hips, deepening his husband's reach.

After scissoring his fingers, Oswald starts to pumps his hand, each time with a little more vigor. “I feel the same as you,” he groans through his teeth, stretching out his sweetheart’s opening, fingering him knuckles deep at this point. He finds Edward's bundle of nerves with ease and turns his hand so that the back is facing the ceiling of their pillow fort. He grazes his painted fingertips over the sensitive area, causing Edward's body to lightly spasm with pleasure and stiffen.

Edward breaks away from Oswald's brow, unable to keep his head up. “Oh, sweet husband—” he buries his face into the pillow, sinking in his teeth, then rips them away so he can finish his thought— “you know just -- just what I want.” He closes his eyes tightly, biting his bottom lip. “Mmm….”

“I know exactly what you want, Ed.” He slips his hand from his love’s greedy hole and sits up to climb on top of him. He coats his cock with lube then spreads Edward's ass cheeks with one hand, exposing the pulsating pink pucker. With his other hand, Oswald strokes himself a few more times than he had liked, hypnotized for a moment by the throbbing of Edward's hole.

The Riddle-man has been highly stimulated already.

Oswald guides himself between Edward's soft rosy cheeks and circles the tip of his wet cock around the brim of his lover's ring all before submerging his thick length inside.

“Oh, Gods….”, Edward moans, taking every inch of his beloved’s shaft.

Oswald squeezes Edward's ass, as he keeps his cheeks separated, and takes smooth charges within his husband. “Ah… Oh, Ed…” He slowly increases the rhythm of his lunges, relishing how taut the warm walls compress around him.  

Edward’s head falls back and a gazes up at the white silk sheets hanging above them, eyes misty with tears from the pain. “Yes…. Mmm…. Os….” His body rocks forward with every buck from his lover, ascending even further into sexual bliss.

Oswald draws back for a moment and takes holds of Ed's hips, lifting his waist from their bed of pillows, helping his partner to his hands and knees. He then leans forward and rests the side of his face on Edward's back, as he quickly re-enters the warmth of his husband’s backside.

“I thought you'd be a little rougher than this tonight,” Edward says with a heavy breath, reaching behind and grips at Oswald's thigh. He loves how Oswald's skin is always smooth and pillowy.

The Penguin peppers Edward's back with tender kisses. “You know I'm not always rough, Ed—” he snakes his right hand between Edward's legs and takes hold of his freely hanging sack— “but I also know you like it rough too.” He slams against Edward with one powerful thrust and tightens the grip around his man’s balls. “So do I,” he adds in a lustful voice he only reserves for him.

“Ah… Fuck!” Edward holds himself up with both arms and they nearly buckle from under him by the force of Oswald's prod. “You d-d-do know what I like,” he stutters, riding out the volts of electricity tingling down his spine.

“Of course I do, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against the taller man’s back once more, then slams his cock between Edward's cheeks again, and again, and again, never letting go of the hold he has on his husband's fluttering sack. Every draw he takes inside, abused Edward's prostate.

“S-s-shit!” Edward's arms quiver. He isn't sure how much longer he can hold the weight of them both, but he doesn't have to wait to figure that out.

Oswald suddenly sits up from Ed’s back and digs his painted nails into Edward's waist, ramming their bodies violently together, filling their tent with the hollow slapping of their collisions. Penguin's drenched shaft slips out unexpectedly from the friction between them and he wastes no time putting it back in.

“Yes….Oh, fuck!”, Edward cries out as he claws his nails into the pillows, the tips of his fingers turning white. He rocks back the instant he feels Oswald’s thrusts begin to falter and rasps his ass against his love’s thickness. He isn't going to allow his husband to stop the addictive sensation.  

Oswald feels his release approaching quickly. Edward had nearly worked him up to completion just moments ago and he's desperate not to finish early. He closes his eyes tightly, fucking his love as deep as his cock can reach, heavy balls repeatedly smacking against Edward's bruised cheeks. He opens his dazzling sea-green eyes and witnesses his cock disappearing and reappearing from Edward’s gaping hole, listening to the sounds their bodies make whenever they connect. What an intoxicating sight to behold and hear.

Edward’s weaken arms can no longer hold up his upper body and he crashed down onto his elbows, biting on his forearm to stop himself from moaning any louder.

Oswald had left the bedroom door open when he first entered the room. They're fur-children Adelie and Chester are curious little cats that will come to explore the mysterious sounds and the wondrous pillow tent that they would assume was build just for them. It wouldn't be the first time that Oswald and Edward’s private time together was interrupted by their beloved kittens, but Edward muddles his cries to try to prevent it from happening again.

Oswald slams into Edward’s prostate, feeling his own body tremble each and every time he drives within his groom. Knowing that he's hitting that sweet spot which causes his hubby to hear nothing but the ringing in his ears, makes Oswald more eager to hammer his cock repeatedly inside.

Edward rolls his hips trying to match Oswald's rhythm, but he's too deep in the ecstasy of his own pleasure to copy the Penguin’s speed. He could lay there all night getting fuck from behind and hear nothing but his heart beating in his chest. He's thought about how heavenly that would be, but he knows that it's physically impossible for them both. Edward's cock dangles freely between his legs, hitting his stomach with each plunge from the little penguin’s center.  “Oh…. Oh….” He forgets all about smothering his cries and he lets them flow from his lip. “You -- you always…. Uh, gods…. Fuck -- fuck me so good!”

Oswald drills his boyfriend with everything he has and his stiffness slips out from Edward’s stretched hole again. It slides between his husband slit for several lunges before Oswald stuffs it back inside. The moist warmth within Edward and the pulsation at the base of his cock have become too much to bare. The mayor of Gotham has reached his sexual limits. He knows that his husband isn't quite there, but he also knows a way to assure his happy ending.

Oswald helps himself to several more vigorous plunges within Edward before giving into the rapturous pleasure, cumming deep inside his love. “Ugh, Edward,” grunts almost incoherently. He clenches his jaw, digging his glittery painted nails into Edward's sides, and slowly rock his hips as his manhood empties.

Edward's brown eyes widen with a bit of alarm. He wasn't finished yet. Why did Oswald cum? “Babe?... What are you…  doing back the-”

Before Edward could finish his thought, he feels Oswald's cock slip out of him and his cheeks spread open. The Penguin instantly replaces his shaft with the kiss of his soft makeup smeared lip.

“Holy… Fuck… Shit!” The stream of random curse words flies out from the well read second in command of the city of Gotham. Oswald eating out his own creampie was not the sensation Ed expected to feel.

Oswald licks and sucks up the climax leaking out of Edward, then flicks his tongue around the rim of the opening, electrifying all of Edward's nerve ending.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Edward breathes sporadically, grinding his ass against Oswald's face, pushing out more of his husband's thick, milky, nectar.

Oswald swallows every oozing drop with a snap of his tongue then stiffens the muscle and sinks it inside, feeling Edward’s walls pulsing around him. He penetrates the Riddle-man’s thoroughly fucked hole before closing his lips to kiss and blow heated air on his lover’s skin.  

Edward’s body tenses and quivers. The sensation is driving him closer to the edge, his aching manhood throbs for attention. “P-p-please touch me…. I'm almost -- almost there.”

Oswald smacks his hand on Edward’s cheeks and separates them even wider, spreading him thinner. He burrows his face nose deep in his lover’s ass and decides to give him what he pleads. “Mmm,” the Penguin vibrates against the surface, saliva dribbling from the corners of his mouth. He reaches for Edward's cock and strokes the glistening shaft from hilt to blushing tip.

“Oh, yes, thank you!” Edward moans, laying his face flat against their bed of pillows.

The warmth and dampness within Edward’s cheeks are unlike anything else. Oswald could be between them all day. He jacks his lover's rod with a twist in his wrist, spreading the natural lubrication, feeling the slightly raised veins between his fingers, never taking his lips away from Edward's hole, aroused by the unique flavor he finds there; the mixture of them both.

Edward's body stiffens with the stroke of his beloved's tongue and he grips even harder at the pillows under him. Two sensations coming from his partner at once has pushed his body to the brink. Edward’s breathing quickens and his heart beats faster than he has ever felt, sensing his climax rising from his core. He arches his back and his thighs shiver as his pounding cock expels his release upon Oswald's caressing hand. “Uh, gods…. Mr. P-penguin….” His body ripples with the force of his orgasm.

Oswald lifts his sticky face from between Ed’s cheeks and watches his gorgeous husband floating high in his intense pleasure, stroking his fingertips over Edward's twitching balls to make sure his partner isn't holding back. He wants every single drop. “Now who's a good boy?”

Edward doesn't answer. He can't find the words to speak.

“I'll take your silence as the answer being me.” He licks his husband's release from the space between his thumb and finger, then kisses the redden cheek of his lover’s round end.

Edward's legs slid from underneath him and he lays in their pool of sex.

“I love it when you get like this,” Oswald says, dragging his fingertips along Edward's body and he crawls up next to him. “You get so quiet and your body gets limp.” He kisses his lover's shoulder. “It's like you've literally drowned in sex—” presses his lips on the shoulder again and again— “and I did that to you,” he says smugly. “The great Edward Nygma.” Leans into his husband's ear. “Who could have guessed he'd turn into mush when his ass gets eaten,” whispers, before taking the earlobe between his moist lips.

Edward finds the strength to lift himself up on his knees. His hair is curled and stuck to his forehead, his glasses are crooked and his face is stained with red lipstick. But he stares at his husband, still breathing heavily from his mouth, with an assuming glare.

The color instantly melts from Oswald’s face. That look could only mean one thing. “What?.... Don't you look at me like that… Everything I said was true.”

Edward remains quite, straightening his glasses, beaming daggers at his hubby.

“Oh… I know what this is about now.” He scoots a little closer with his eyebrows raised high. “I'm sorry, Eddie. I know how you like to pretend it doesn't bother you when I finish early and I understand why, but I….” Oswald stops his train of thought once he sees a grin flash on the other man's face.

Edward bites his bottom lip and leans in a little, then suddenly pounces on Oswald, sending them both through the sheets, destroying their indoor igloo.

Oswald lands on his back, sheets cascading around them, and his lips are met with the taste of his husband's.

They consume each other, rolling on the carpeted floor, wrapping themselves tighter in the silk sheets, laughing a little more than kissing.

“I don't pretend to be upset,” Edward huffs between their greedy lips, rolling onto his back and pulling Oswald on top of him. “I don’t mind when you finish early. You always make it up exceptionally well.”

“You don't have to lie.” Oswald kisses the brim of Edward's lips then his cheek. “I get a little annoyed when you finish early. It's okay.”

Edward quints, tipping his head to the right. “Yeah, but that hasn't happened in a while.”

“But it's happened,” he smirks and places sweet kisses on the tip of Edward's nose. “I love you regardless.”

“I love you too,” Edward chuckles, enjoying all the sugar he's receiving from his sweetie. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Oswald says, kissing Ed’s cheek once and then twice. 

“Do what?”

“Make me love you more every day.” 

Edward’s cheeks bloom. He's never normally speechless when Oswald says things like this, but all the words of endearment are lost to him in the moment. He hopes that the expression on his face is enough he give his husband the response that he deserves. 

As Oswald continues to cover Ed’s face with endless smooches and whispering sweet praises, Edward begins to feel a foreign sensation on tip of his big toe. “Babe, I think we have company.” He pulls down the sheet covering their heads and they both find Chester nibbling on Edward's foot.

“Aww, he missed us,” Oswald sighs and rolls off of Edward while covering his lower body with the sheet. “Come to mommy.” He picks up their precious cat and he’s enthusiastically treated with purrs and kisses. “Eddie?”’, he says, gazing down at Edward, holding the kitty’s face against his own.

“Yes, my love?”, he answers, gently tracing his finger over Oswald's back, connecting his freckles.

“Can you rebuild the igloo? I think the children will love it.”

Edward sits up and snuggles his face in Chester’s soft white coat. “Of course I will, Oswald.” He places a kiss on Chester's head. “I'll do anything for you and the kids.” Edward stands up, then helps Oswald to his feet as the cat jumps out of his arms. “We can get some wine, board games, and a few books to spend the rest of the night in the igloo as a family.”

“That's an excellent idea, Eddie!”, Oswald says with a luminescent smile, slightly bouncing with excitement. A night alone in an igloo with his family is a dream come true for any penguin. Oswald yanks his husband close then wraps the sheet around them both. “We should clean up first,” he purrs, batting his long lashes.

“Mmhmm…” Edward nods.

Oswald closes his eyes as he hugs Edward tightly, breathing in the sweat and musk of their sexual encounter, feeling the warmth of their love. When he opens his eyes and peeks behind Ed’s shoulder, he witnesses Chester exploring curiously by the pile of pictures. “I don't think the kids should look at the pictures we took.”

“Oswald, they’re just cats,” Edward says, pulling out of his lover's embrace. “It's not going to damage them like it would a real child,” he says with a chuckle edging his voice.

“Honey,” Oswald suddenly yelps with alarm, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Chester just dashed out with one of the pictures.”

“Oh, shit!” Knowing that Oswald can't catch the fur-baby fast enough, Edward flies out of the bedroom in his birthday suit, chasing the cat to quickly collect their x-rated photograph before it gets into the wrong hands.


End file.
